


Recovery

by Katiebug586



Category: Big City Greens (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brain Damage, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Paralysis, Sickness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 16:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20763368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiebug586/pseuds/Katiebug586
Summary: It was just a normal day at Big Coffee. Collab with me and my friend!





	1. The One Where Gloria's Brain Screws Up And Chip Nearly Strangles A Child

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm 'fraid of strokes a bit, but I think writing about them and using them in my writing might help me conquer that fear, and just adjust to how life be sometimes in general. So without further ado, enjoy.

It was a normal day for Cricket Green, well as normal as days were. He put on his overalls, got ready and ran out the door, to his ‘job’, which was him working as a Barista at Big Coffee. Opening up the back door, he shouted “Good morning Gloria!”.

Expecting a “Good morning” back, whether it was in a happy mood or ‘whatever, I don’t care just do your job’ mood, he cocked his head when he didn’t get a response back.

“I said, good morning!” He called out again, cocking his eyebrows. Walking up front, he saw Gloria slumped over the counter, looking as if she got ran over by a truck. “Geez, there you are. Did you get sleep at all? You look horrible! No offense.”

He walked over to Gloria, she managed to open her eyes and push herself off the counter. “I’m fineee....” She groaned, a slight slur to her voice, although barely noticeable.

“You ready to start another day of working?” Cricket asked, nudging her in the shoulder affectionately. She looked him in the eye, and let out a sigh. “Sure…”

\------

Cricket stomped through the model can-town he built on break, shouting “Here comes Cricketzilla!” as he kicked over cans and imagined all the screaming coming from the poor can-people. It felt so real and lifelike.

However, something broke his trance, as his gaze shifted to the door, screaming still being heard. Wait, he wasn’t imagining screaming, there WAS screaming. Confused and slightly panicked, he jumped off the table, cans falling onto the floor, and ran out front.

There were a few people standing around, and someone on the ground. One of the people in the crowd kept saying “911, 911,” and Cricket pushed through them, his heart almost stopped entirely when he saw it was Gloria.

Gasping, he got on all fours next to her, trying to nudge her awake, though to no avail. Like she was in a deep and unwakeable sleep that, in his tiny and innocent mind, he figured maybe she deserved. She did seem very tired this morning after all. In an insanely calm voice, he asked, “What happened to her?”.

“She… She…”

Suddenly, she began to move, and looked at him, as if she didn’t recognize him. “I… crick.. finnnn...” she muttered, before falling back on the floor. Cricket scratched the back of his head, unaware of the situation or what was wrong with her, “Something’s wrong.”.

“Slurred speech, unresponsive, muscles drooping,” one of the customers knelt beside him and Gloria. “She’s having a stroke. Someone call for an ambulance. Stand back a little, kiddo.”

“What?” Cricket scooted back, obediently but confused. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Maybe. Time will tell,” the man told him, and looked back up at a member of the crowd with a cell phone to their ear. “How long?”

“Fifteen minutes or less,” they replied. “But they’re on their way.”

“What’s… What’s a stroke?” Cricket asked, confused and boggled by this new word that he had never heard before. Though it didn’t sound or look pleasant.

“A stroke is a blood clot that has travelled to the brain,” the informed stranger says. “A heart attack in the brain, if you will.”

“Gloria, no,” he reaches out for her, grabbing her hand. Behind him, the person on the phone is commenting on how she looks and what’s happening. Still on the 911 call, he thinks numbly, but he’s focused on his unresponsive friend. “She’s gonna be okay though? I mean, she’s gotta be. She always is.”

The helpful strangers just pull her apron from her neck to make sure she can breathe, and when the ambulance arrives, the crowd clears and she’s whisked away. The spinning lights and sirens leave Cricket overwhelmed, but luckily the lunchtime rush is over and there’s no customers to serve at the moment.

“Cricket? What happened?” Bill comes running into the shop, wiping dirty hands on his jeans. He must have been working with his plants. “Is everything okay?”

“They took Gloria to the hospital! She- she was on the floor and she wasn’t talkin’ right and the people here called 911, and they- well, she’s gonna be okay! She’s gotta be!” Cricket insists, clutching Gloria’s apron. 

“Eh, what? Run that by me again?” Bill asked, scratching his head. “Do you know what a stroke is?” Cricket asked as Bill’s look went from concerned to ‘Oh boy.’ Looking around, he let out a sigh.

“At her age? Wow.” However, he sees Cricket’s curious look and decided to explain. “Well, It’s kinda hard to explain. Most people don’t have to worry about having one till their in their fifties, but I guess it all depends.”

“Depends on what?” Sitting down, Bill picked up Cricket and put him on his knee. “Like it depends on how your brain works. Stress, high blood pressure, uh… some medication that goes wonky, it can lead to it.”

“I was told it happens when a blood clot or whatever they're called goes up to the brain!” Cricket chirped. “That’s usually how it happens, unfortunately.”

“So does that mean Gloria’s gonna be okay? The doctors are gonna fix her, right? Just gotta remove the problem!” Bill looked away, as if not wanting to give Cricket the full answer. It was things like this that made being a parent hard; having to tell the truth or watch his little boy go through bad times. A lie might comfort Cricket for the time being, but the last thing he needs is both him being dead wrong and Cricket not being able to trust him anymore.

“Cricket, buddy, it’s not that simple,” Bill admits. “This could leave her unable to use part of her body. It might even… might kill her. But she’s young, and strong, and she has a good friend like you. She’ll pull through.”

Cricket let out a slight smile before jumping on Bill. “Come on! We gotta go see her!”

Bill simply sat Cricket down and stood up. “You can, I still need to prepare the produce for this year’s harvest. Besides, we wouldn’t want to overwhelm her. Here, hold on.”

Bill gave Cricket some flowers. “This was all I could find that wasn’t veggies or something. I’m not sure how well a ‘get well soon’ present consisting entirely of carrots would go, considering It’ll probably go bad by the time she’s able to eat it.”

Cricket looked at the flowers and smiled determinedly. “She’ll love it.”

\------

Cricket walked down the street towards the hospital, holding the bouquet of flowers in one hand, and her apron in the other. He didn’t want to let go of it at all, choosing to take it with him, even to the hospital.

However, he would have to pass by Wholesome Foods, as unfortunate as that would be. He didn’t like to deal with Chip any day, and now, dealing with him would just make him feel even worse about everything. It was not a good day for Cricket Green, to put it gently.

Luckily, he got to the hospital without incident, and was led to Gloria’s room. She was still out, and murmuring in her sleep. He put the flowers in a vase, and clutching the apron next to him, he asked the doctor the most nerve wracking question he ever asked.

“How… How is she?” The doctor looked away from his clipboard and let out a sigh. ”It’s not looking good. Your friend is lucky though, we were able to get rid of the clot and any other clot that might’ve been forming.”

“So she’s fine, right?”

“I’m afraid not, son,” The doctor gestured to Gloria, lying still under her blanket. “She’s been left paralyzed on one side. Whether it’s fixable with a few years of therapy or it’s permanent-”

“WHAT?!” Cricket cried out. “No, this can’t be happening, she was supposed to be alright! She was supposed to come back to work with me when she was all better, she was supposed…”

And for the first time that day, Cricket cried. It started as a sniffle, followed by another, and then a sobbing mess of tears and snot as he hugged onto the doctor’s leg, given only the sympathetic of looks by the latter.

“W-When will she wake up?” Cricket finally asked, wiping away snot and tears.The doctor patted his shoulder. “Not too long now. Perhaps tomorrow morning. We gave her quite a bit of painkillers, you see, she may sleep for another several hours.”

Cricket frowned. He’d have to go home and come back, then. At least Gloria was going to live, right? He turned around and walked out. “I’ll be back tomorrow then.”

Taking the elevator to the main floor, he stepped out with his hands in his overall pockets, a distant look on his face. If he had seen himself and wasn’t preoccupied with everything else, he would’ve joked he looked like a wannabe teenager.

However, his problems were far from over. As he neared the front desk, his pupils slitted and he furrowed his brows as he saw a distant shape talking to someone. However, he knew who it was, even with several bright lights obscuring his vision and making it squint. It was Chip.

Why was HE here? No way he needed the hospital, he was way too careful with himself, sans his teeth. Plus, he was carrying a gift basket tied with a huge bow. Probably way more expensive than anything Cricket could afford to bring Gloria.

Who was it for, anyways? Who could Chip possibly care about enough to spend his hard earned money on a gift basket? A sick child, and this was their last wish? Puh-lease, what kid in their right mind would waste a wish they could spend at an amusement park and instead ask to get a gift basket from an egotistical guy and his market store of clowns?

Cricket was going to find out who, no matter what. He marched towards the front desk and slammed his fist down, “Hey, lady!”

The underpaid and tired to death receptionist finished typing a report into the computer before turning towards Cricket with an indifferent look. “May I help you?”

“Hi, yes you can. You know that guy with the obviously fake front teeth that just came in here and left?” The receptionist didn’t say anything, and just stared at Cricket, waiting for him to continue so she could get on with her life.

“I was wondering, who’s the gift basket for?” Cricket’s frog jumped up from his pocket and ribbited, before Cricket shoved it back in, “Not now! Daddy’s trying to do business with the nice lady here!”

“I’m sorry, sir, we can’t give patient details out. Now, if you’ll be on your way-” Cricket jumped up and got a good look at the gift basket, before noticing the tag. “Hey, what does this say?”

Before the lady could react, he grabbed it with lightning fast reflexes that could only belong to a child, and looked at it. “What in tarnation?”

“To Gloria,” it read. Why in the world was CHIP giving her a gift basket? Didn’t they both hate each other? He was knocked out of his trance by the desk lady declaring, “Sir, please get off the counter and unhand the gift basket.”.

“Okay, time to go,” he yelled, and bolted toward the doors. Maybe he could catch up with Chip in time and interrogate him. Outside of his ear shot, the lady simply facepalmed and went, “Can we get some sterile wipes down here please?”.

Running down the pavement, Cricket caught a glimpse of Chip heading towards his van. Bingo bango. He sprinted, childlike energy giving him an easy time crossing the parking lot. As he neared the van, he admired the sky as well. Despite the cloudy overcast earlier, the skies parted to reveal a lovely orange and red sunset, the last rays of the sun descending into the unknown.

Cricket ran up to the side of the van as Chip was opening the door, and smacked the side panel. It made a loud, awful sound, and Chip immediately jumped up in fright, giving Cricket enough time to run and block the way in.

“YOU.” He growled, pointing a finger at the man in question, though still using his free arm to block the entrance into the van.

“C-Cricket? What are you doing here?” Chip asked, trying to recover from the shock. “I mean... Of course! My fated nemesis, Cricket! We meet again, this time at the hospital! What an UNPLEASANT surprise!”

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me why you’re messing with Gloria!” Chip simply shrugged and opened the van on the side, so Cricket simply grabbed the keys from him. “That’s just low, Green.”

“Want these? You know how to get them, just attack me. But oh, would you look at that crowd.” It was true, a crowd of people gathered around them, as if they wanted a fight to go down. “I’m not telling you, Cricket. We can stand out here all night.”

“Do it or I’ll swallow them.” “You wouldn’t.”

Cricket dangled the keys dangerously close to his throat, making smug expressions at Chip all the while. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but ONLY if you stop bugging me, AND give me my keys back.”

“Then talk. What are you trying to do to Gloria, you sick Monster?!” “What? I’m not trying to do anything-” ''You're both competitors, so It's obvious you'd sink low enough to the point you'd try to injure the other when they're in the hospital!" 

“I-” “"So what's really in that gift basket? A bomb? Poison? Rabid racoons?!"

“I CARE FOR HER, OKAY?!” An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Cricket, however, was beyond confused. “You… care for her? How? Why? Don’t you two literally want to rip each other’s guts out?” 

“That was the most disgusting comparison to hating someone that I’ve ever heard. But honestly, Cricket, why do you think I always come by the cafe? Don’t you think I have better things to do than go see someone I hate?” 

Cricket thought for a moment. “Well, Gloria’s never happy to see you. Mostly because you tease her or try to flirt with her.”

“You know how it is, boys pick on the people they like, It’s just that Gloria doesn’t like being picked on at all, I guess, and can’t take the hints.” 

“That’s not what my dad said.” Cricket added, feeling slightly uncomfortable, desperately wanting to go home. But he still had one more question he wanted answered.

“Well that’s how they do it out in the country, but here in the city, It’s different. It's a dog eat dog world, that’s all I’m saying. Now, may I have my keys back, puh-leaseee?” Cricket shook his head, making Chip twitch in frustration, trying not to let his rage overtake him, people were recording this, after all. The last thing he, or the store needed was headlines saying “LOCAL SUPERMARKET WORKER STRANGLES BOY! COMPANY IN SHAMBLES!”

“Not yet, I still got one more question to ask you. How did you know she was in the hospital to begin with?” Chip simply rolled his eyes. “I was there, doofus.” 

“You were?” At this point people were putting their phones away. “Uh yea, I was like in front of you, dude..”

Thinking back, as much as he didn’t want to, Cricket suddenly remembered seeing a man who looked vaguely familiar in the crowd. Of course, he was more preoccupied with helping Gloria than seeing who the man was.

“Oh… I remember.” Cricket said, feeling slightly dumb now that he thought about it. “Uh yea, now give me back my keys.”

“Right.” He took the keys out of his pocket and licked them for good measure, before handing them back to Chip. “Here you go!”

The man didn’t want anything to do with the keys now, trying to get them into the car without touching Cricket’s saliva. “Hehe, bye Chip!”

“I’ll get him for this."


	2. The One Where The Angst Comes Rushing In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst, angst, and even more angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea here's where we role right into the angst. Grab a tissue kiddies.

First thing in the morning, Cricket raised off to the hospital to see his co-worker, barely spending any time at all to get dressed, eat breakfast or even say goodbye to Phoenix. The only thing on his mind was Gloria; she would have woken up by now and he needed to see her, so he figured.

The sun shined down, making it feel that if, even for a second, everything was going to be okay. Gloria was going to live, and even if there were going to be some changes and challenges ahead, he’d help her get through each and every one of them, since that’s what friends are for.

Stepping into the hospital, the receptionist from before saw him and shot him a glare, before getting up and leaving. ‘At least I don’t need to ask her for directions’ He thought, as he walked into the elevator and pressed the third floor button. Stepping out, he danced around the hall, as if he had just received word that his hypothetical wife’s birth went off without a hitch and he was now a father. One could dream, one could dream. Not even knocking, he slammed open the door.

“Good morning, Gloria!” But the sight before him was anything but. His friend and part-time co-worker laid as still as ever in the bed sheets, though she was twitching one of her left hand’s fingers a bit. ‘That must be the part she can still move.’ Cricket thought as he walked over to her bedside.

She did look really peaceful, though. Hopefully she was having good dreams, ones to prelude the bitter reality to which she would wake up to. But he didn’t want to think about what Gloria WOULD go through, eventually. Just that she was at least physically okay.

But again, only physically. He might not have been the sharpest tool in the barn, but Cricket knew that once Gloria did wake and learnt about her situation, that she’d be emotionally ruined and destroyed. All her dreams even harder to accomplish, or just plain impossible. Why did this have to happen to her, someone who worked so hard for something that might not even be worth it in the end?

Cricket waited by her side for a few minutes, crossing his fingers, and she began to stir more every minute. Then, with a small groan, she began to blink awake. It was painfully obvious she wasn’t having the easiest time.

Noticing her trying to wake up slightly, Cricket restrained trying to jump and hug her, and instead, opted to remain by her bedside, nervously asking “G-Gloria? You okay?”

“Mmm… Cr… Crickut….” She slurred, it seemed the meds were still affecting her in some way, making her more out of it than what she’d normally act like. All the while, Cricket hopefully nodded, feeling relief that she could at least talk. “Yea, that’s me.”

“M’not feelin… too good,” she whines. Her left hand wiggles a bit, but her right lays entirely still. ‘Too still’, Cricket thinks, but ignores it in favor of the glass of water on the side table. “Here, you should get something to drink.”

“M’fine, Crick…” But before she could finish her sentence, she drifted off back into a restful fit of sleep. ‘Hey, at least she has a fluidy fluid thing or whatever they call it’ With a huff, he walked down to the cafeteria, having not eaten much back home.

\------

A little while later, Cricket returned to the room, holding two bagels in his hand. One for him and one for Gloria. Thankfully, he knew which was which, thanks to the big bite taken out of one of them. Hey, he couldn’t wait.

He sat down, setting her bagel on a napkin and then on the table. He ate his bagel, staring absentmindedly out the window,and waited for her to wake up again. Fortunately, that didn’t take long, but unfortunately, she was a lot more lucid this time around.

“Hey, Gloria,” he murmured, as she rubbed at her eyes with one hand. She blinked back at him, the haze of sleep fading, and smiled a little. “Hey.”

“How, uh… how’re you feeling?” He asked, not sure how to approach the subject.She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue, hummed, and then finally replied, “Something’s… wrong with my arm. And- and my leg, I can’t- I can’t move them, I can’t FEEL them!”

Cricket didn’t know what to do, so he just ran and hugged her. He knew he’d get all emotional if he tried talking, so he didn’t. Just hid his face by leaning in to her, and hugged her as tight as he could.

She put her left arm around him, and squeezed him right back. Cricket just sobbed, unable to control his emotions any longer. ”Gloria, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What am I gonna do?” She whimpers. “I can’t do my job at the shop, I can’t- I won’t be able to do art anymore, Cricket, I can’t do anything!”

She buries her face in his shoulder and he can feel her sobbing, quietly, as her world crumbles around her. He just hopes he can help her stay steady enough to get through this.

“You’re… You’re not useless, Gloria.” He manages to choke out. “Don’t… D-Don’t think like that… P-Please.”

“My… my right arm’s gone. I can’t even feel. How am I supposed to do anything, Cricket?” She swallows a lump in her throat, and asks, “And my leg… I’m not gonna be able to walk anym- more, I- I can’t do this, I can’t….”

“Hey, you still got one arm and leg, right?” Cricket asked, trying to get her hopes up. “You could’ve lost everything! Like sure your mobility might not be as good as it was, but you still got it!”

Cricket sits up, perching on the edge of the bed. “Let me see your hand!”

She holds it up, and it’s shaking, but he presses their palms together gently, a soft high-five. Then, he takes her hand and holds it. “You can still do that! And if that’s all you can ever do? Then that’s okay. Cause I’ve got a free hand here, see? And I can help you do what you can’t with it!”

Gloria tears up once again, but this time with tears of happiness and gratitude. “Thanks, Cricket.” Though she then looked down, and looked a bit sad. “I can’t believe I thought you were some annoying kid. Man, how wrong I would be.”

“Hey, that’s okay! At least you took the time to get to know me! Though I kinda forced you to, heh.” Cricket finished with a small smile, earning a small snort from Gloria. Things would be okay. As long as Cricket and Gloria had each other.

\-----

Chip came to visit Gloria again late at night. He didn’t want another encounter with that wild little Green kid, and besides, there was better parking in the evenings anyway. Yeah, he was really smart, wasn’t he?

She was asleep when he arrived, and a doctor was taking notes at the foot of her bed. He filled Chip in on her current condition, and told him to let her rest, as she was on heavy medication for at least another day. He was tempted to ignore the old man, and to wake her anyway, but she was fidgeting in her sleep and it was pretty obvious that her right side wasn’t functioning.

Instead, he just sat down beside her in the evening light, watching her rest, and wondering what went wrong between them. 


	3. The One Where Chip Reveals He's Not 100% A Douche

Gloria’s awake before the sun, and she’s hungry, so she calls the nurse and asks for breakfast. She’s brought a plate of scrambled eggs, and they set it over her lap on a tray. She pokes at it for a minute, frowning. She always eats with her right hand, or at least, she used to, before this.

She stabs the eggs and eats them in many tiny bites. It’s rough, and she drops half of it back onto the plate and has to pick it up again. And she has to ask for a straw for her drink, because she’s so nervous about having to do this that she’s shaking too bad to sip it normally. This really, really sucks.

They tell her it was caused by stress. That she just had too much going on, and her body had given out. So now what?

Cricket brings her her phone next time he visits, and she spends five minutes trying to scroll with her left hand before giving up. She’s got to tackle that one eventually, but for now, she just has to try to get her strength back up. Who knew having a stroke could make you feel like you got hit by a bus? Not just hit by a bus, but as if the bus hit you, then reversed, then hit you again, reversed, and so on.

She takes a lot of naps the first two or three days. A lot of resting. Sometimes when she wakes, Cricket is there, telling her all about his days at the shop without her and how he misses her being there. But perhaps, working there was what caused this in the first place. Still, she needed a job, no matter what. How would she ever complete any of her dreams at all with little to no money?

She couldn’t just go back to her parents’ house and just mooch off of them for the rest of her life. That was pathetic, even if they would accept her with open arms. No, she wasn’t going to put that burden on them. They’ve done enough for her, these past 20 years, that she isn’t going to make them suffer even more.

She’s not ready to tell them what happened to her yet. She’ll call them soon, she tells herself. But she knows they’ll freak out, and cry, and whatever parents do, and probably do their best to come see her if she’s not coming back home. She’s just not strong enough for that flood of emotions yet.

And she didn’t feel strong enough to go back home yet. Oh yea, she was definitely getting evicted. Sure, the Greens could pay the rent for her as some sort of ‘pity party’ but what about next month? And the month after that? If working did this to her, she was undoubtedly screwed.

Undoubtedly screwed for becoming a real adult that is. Sure, she always had her parents, and again, it’s not like she’d be living on the streets. But dare she say it once more, she didn’t want to push that kind of pressure on her parents and end up giving them both strokes as well. Your daughter has a stroke, your wife has a stroke, you have a stroke, everyone gets a stroke! Fun for the whole family!

She does her best to keep her chin up. She might not be able to do a lot anymore, but she’s still alive. She gets better at using her left hand and the doctor says she’s going to be alright, even though she’s handicapped. And it’s not just her arm that’s bothering her; she’s left with one working leg and needs a wheelchair if she wants to go anywhere that isn’t this boring white room of doom.

Trying to make a wheelchair move with one arm sucks, too, but at least she’s building muscle in that arm, right? She’s getting stronger? The bright side isn’t that bright in this situation, it seems, and being in a wheelchair to begin with isn’t that great, either. It makes her look weak.

She’s four days post-stroke when Chip comes to visit. He’s brought flowers, which are wilted at the edges and dull in color, and next to the fresh ones Cricket brings every day, they seem super sad. He said, “I tried.” and left it at that.

He sits in the chair by the window and doesn’t talk, and Gloria doesn’t have anything to say to him. He’s a mega-jerk, the biggest garbage bag in the dumpster, and she’s not even sure why he’s here. It’s not like he feels bad and is here to make her feel better, right? He hasn’t cared about her feelings in all the years she’s known him.

So they sit in silence, and she tries to think of any possible reason why he’d be coming to see her. “So, how’s the weather?” She asks, breaking the silence. “You know, since I haven’t been outside in four days.”

“Oh, it’s, uh, fine,” he mutters. “Clear sky. Sunshine. That kinda stuff.”

The silence comes back, all too easy, and it starts to make her rather at edge. Not that being around Chip makes her feel any better than this, usually, but she’s in the hospital and he’s here. Something isn’t right about that, and it makes her suspicious.

“I’m, um, sorry that this happened,” he says, finally. Wait, what? Chip was feeling sorrow? Was that even possible? Did he actually have feelings and she never took the time to delve into them, only deciding to label him as a heartless jerk?

“It’s, uh… it’s gonna be fine. Doc says I’m healthy as I can be right now, so I’m fine. Peachy.”

Chip sits up straighter. “Right. Well, that’s uhm, good.”

It was pretty darn apparent Chip did not have a way with words. Well, words that were meant to sound sincere and polite. He did have a way with sleazy advertising and business practices that were meant to drain every penny from every helpless shopper that dared to walk into the truly soulless place known as Wholesome Foods. 

So why? This wasn’t in the uncanny valley, this was in the uncanny gorge, complete with deadly rocks at the bottom, and a herd of wild antelope at top. This wasn’t like him at all, and she was determined to find out why now of all times that he was starting to show her his softer side, assuming that he had one and he wasn’t faking it in an attempt to get her to like him again. 

In fact, she had expected him to be over the moon when this happened. They were competitors, weren’t they? He constantly came over to the cafe and bragged about what newest billboard his store put up, or how they sell better food than they do, and it took every inch of her will-power and self-control to not attack him and get arrested for assault. Come on, this is a coffee shop, all they sold that can be considered food were croissants and other french and french-sounding pieces of bread.

Chip wasn’t the kind of guy to act like this, but here they were. Gloria couldn’t help but wonder what kind of game he was playing this time around. Maybe in this little game, he’ll try to screw up her mental health even more than it already is right now. Now THAT sounds like something he would do. 

“So,” She began. “What’s the real reason you came here?”

“L-Look, I was coming by the cafe-”

“Again, probably for the third time this week, or whatever week it was.” She didn’t even know what the day was, let alone actually remember when this happened. It all seemed like a huge staticy blur in her mind, one that she couldn’t clear up. “Well I suppose you could give me an eye-witness review of what I was doing back then, which I would hope was nothing utterly embarrassing. Shame that Cricket was in the back and missed most of the ‘really fun stuff’, huh?”

“I got there, and- and you were on the floor,” Chip recounted, and swallowed, as if he was trying not to cry. Chip never cried, though, so why start now? Well, scratch that, he’d cry if he busted his teeth, again, or had his schemes fall apart in front of him, AGAIN. Chip just didn’t cry about the things that really mattered. “Okay, so I was on the floor. Then what happened?”

“There was a crowd. I- you looked up, and then you just started glaring and pointing. Then you just… I don’t know, were out.” He shakes his head. “The people around called for help and that kid ran up, fell right next to you and- ugh.”

Something in what he says is familiar. She certainly remembers being angry, in the haze of things that were happening, and Chip being around is definitely a reason she’d feel that way. She remembers the pointing, too, vaguely as if it were a dream, no, scratch that, a nightmare. One that wasn’t one, but was very, very real. “Oh.”

“Gloria, I saw you lying there, I thought you were gonna die! Don’t just ‘oh’!” Chip scoots to the edge of his chair. “Then what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know! I just wish you’d take this more seriously. Everyone, not just me, not just Cricket, but everyone in that cafe thought you were gonna die!” Silence once again filled the room, choking the air with tension, before Gloria sighed. “You’re right, as much as I hate to admit it. I’m sorry I worried everyone, even you. Didn’t know you really cared about me like that.”

Chip simply nodded, looking into the distance. Time would honestly tell whether or not Gloria would be okay, and if not, she didn’t want to even think about it. All she wanted was to just take it one step at a time, even if this whole thing was awful and messed up. Perhaps one day she’d be able to look at the sun with a smile on her face, but for now? She’d just have to face it with simple indifference and a shrug, like she always has.


End file.
